


I'm Not Your Type (But That's All Right)

by dizzy



Category: Glee RPF, StarKid Productions RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-20
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-16 10:11:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1343683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Too much alcohol and one night stands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not Your Type (But That's All Right)

I'm Not Your Type (But That's All Right)

What's the ettiquette for waking up in your onscreen love interest's real life best friend's bed? 

Well, it's probably not head straight for the bathroom and hurl, but considering the amount of alcohol he'd consumed the previous night Chris considers it the height of good guest behavior that he actually made it to the bathroom first. 

He has no idea whose mouth wash he uses, but he goes through half the bottle before he feels remotely human. The mirror shows a mess of bedhead and stubble and a huge red splotchy mark at the base of his throat suspiciously shaped like a mouth. 

Oh, god. 

He definitely slept with someone and he wasn't drunk enough not to remember who. 

Later he'll be ashamed of the three minutes he stands there staring at his reflection and wondering if he really needs his phone that badly, or if he can just leave and... maybe have Joey mail it to him or something. At the moment, it seems like an option he should at least consider, because he's never been in this situation and he has absolutely no idea how to walk back in there and act like he's not sick, tired, and a little miserable. 

There's a light knock on the door and then a somewhat familiar voice calling out low. "You okay in there?" 

Chris sighs and turns and opens the door. "It was touch and go for a minute there." 

Joey looks just as sick, just as tired, and maybe even just as miserable as Chris feels. "What distilliery did we ransack last night?" 

"I don't know, but I never want to go there again." Chris would laugh, but laughter makes the pain spike sharply at his temples and his stomach roll. 

"It's still early," Joey says, clearing his throat a little and then wincing. "You want to just sleep some more?" 

Nothing sounds more like heaven to Chris than falling back asleep. "Yeah, I think I need to." 

"Go on. Uh, my turn in here, I think." Joey starts to look a little green so Chris steps aside to let him have it. 

He retraces his steps back to the same bedroom he'd woken up in. The blankets on the bed are rumpled and there are clothes all around it. He's pretty sure those are his briefs hanging on the doorknob. 

At least he apparently had fun earning the hangover. 

He hovers in and out of sleep once he's back under the warmth of the blankets on Joey's bed, losing track of how much time passes before Joey is back. He tries to curl away from the hand shaking his shoulder as Joey says his name a few times. "Come on, you're gonna want this." 

The room is darker than it was before, shade pulled down over the window. Joey's holding a bottle of water in one hand and pills on the upturned palm of the other. 

Chris hadn't realized how parched he was until he cracks the cap and unscrews it. "Don't gulp," Joey warns him. "It'll just make you sick again." 

It's hard to resist the urge to, but he drinks half the bottle in sips, wincing as the pills scrape down his throat. 

"Now." Joey crawls back under the covers, groaning a sound of pure relief. "Sleep." 

* 

Chris feels a little more human when he wakes up the second time. 

He does a quick inventory of his various aches and pains. Sore in... well, all the places he'd expect to be. Elbow hurting, knees hurting - also expected, considering the blurry memories he has of being on all fours on Joey's (god, he hopes it was Joey's) living room floor. Head down to a dull throb, stomach still off but not nearly as tumtultuous as before. Slightly sweaty from the humidity under the blankets, and he definitely smells one of them... 

He's also starving, which he realizes as he listens to Joey on the phone. 

"Two large, one meat lovers and one-" Joey looks over at Chris. "Sweet, you're awake. What do you want on your pizza?" 

"Everything," Chris says, his stomach letting out another rumble. "Extra everything." 

"On meat lovers and one surpreme," Joey says. "With extra everything." 

He stretches a little, wincing at the way it makes his headache pulse a little more painfully but enjoying the pull on his arms and through his legs. He turns his head and watches Joey plug his phone back in. Joey's still not wearing any clothes and Chris almost wants to blush at the long naked stretch of his back. 

Last night, he fucked Joey Richter. He fucked Joey and Joey fucked him and Chris remembers it all with enough clarity to be embarrassed and also a little turned on. 

"Well." Joey drops back down onto the bed, pulling the blanket over his legs. "Hi there." 

"Hi," Chris says, reaching up idly to try and do something with his hair. When it just falls limply back over his forehead he gives up the effort. "Um. So. You ordered pizza?" 

"Yeah. I mean, if you've got places to be, no problem, man. But I thought, fuck, it'll be rude to just order pizza for me. If you have to split I'll just have leftovers. Pizza leftovers are never a problem. Except when they're gone." Joey rambles on a little, eyes slightly too wide and seemingly unconcerned as he talks. 

"No, that actually sounds great," Chris admits. "And I don't have anywhere to be." 

It's kind of the truth. Mostly, he just doesn't want to get up yet. 

Joey sinks back down onto the pillow with a loud sigh. "Hangover days are best spent in bed." 

Chris watches him still. He can hardly even remember looking at Joey for more than a few seconds at a time before last night, but now he sort of doesn't want to stop. Something about knowing what kind of face someone makes when they come... it tends to put them in a whole new light. 

"We slept together," Chris says, just to see what kind of reaction it gets. 

"Yup." Joey yawns into the back of his hand and then looks at Chris, a grin popping onto his face. "I was totally the best you've ever had, right?" 

Chris laughs. "I think you lost out on that title when you couldn't walk straight and ran us into the kitchen door." He lifts the cover to show Joey the bruise blossoming on his hip where the doorknob made acquaintence with bone. 

"Oh, shit." Joey winces. "Sorry, man." 

"It's fine." Chris lets him off the hook. "I bruise really easily. I don't think I even felt it at the time." 

"Anyway," Joey says. "It's probably best you're staying for pizza because man is it about to start pouring." 

"What? It seemed so sunny earlier." Chris realizes that the new dimness to the room wasn't entirely because the shades were pulled, though. He even hears the thunder distantly rumbling when they go a few beats without talking. 

"Uh, yeah, with a hangover that bad I'm pretty sure anything seems like an interrogation light. Good job not spewing on anything in the bathroom, though. Seriously, like, not having to clean up someone else's puke? That's a gift." Joey sighs the sigh of a man who has been down that road too many times already. 

"I try," Chris says. 

The rain starts in the lapse in conversation, the tap tap tap against the window loud in the quiet room. 

"I know we slept for like ten hours, but fuck. I could pass out again." Joey sounds as drowsy as his words imply. He looks over at Chris. "Maybe a nap after food. What do you think?" 

"Are you asking me or inviting me?" Chris wonders. 

Joey gives a lazy one-shouldered shrug in response. "Whatever. I'm easy." 

Chris lets the obvious opening pass him by as he wonders which he'd rather it be. 

* 

Chris eats six slices of pizza and then announces that he needs a shower. 

"Oh, I see how it is. Big celebrity dude thinks he can waltz in and just utilize all the amenities." Joey sighs exaggeratedly. 

"Uh-" Chris is caught between not sure if he can joke with Joey and not wanting to see uptight by not joking back. 

Joey rolls his eyes. "Dude, I came on your _face_ last night, I think you earned a shower." 

Chris is halfway out of the bed before he tilts his head to look down at Joey and asks. "... do I want to know what it takes to get an actual bath?" 

"Oh, you did that, too," Joey says, winking. 

Chris snorts and bends down to grab his jeans. 

"You leaving after?" Joey blurts out. 

Chris stills, looking at him. "I guess?" 

"It's still raining." Joey's jaw is set in a crookedly stubborn way as he looks at Chris. 

"I... could stay," Chris says, cautious. 

Joey grins. "Oh, well, if you're just going to invite yourself-" 

Chris throws his blue jeans at Joey and turns to walk naked into the bathroom. 

*

When Chris comes back after his shower the pizza boxes are gone and a candle is burning.

There are different sheets on the bed and Joey's asleep on top of them. The blanket is drawn halfway up his body and he's turned onto his side, facing toward Chris. He smacks his lips a little in his sleep and scrunches his face up for a second before it relaxes back into restfulness. 

Chris thinks about leaving again. It would be so easy this time. Grab his clothes, find his phone- 

Which is plugged in on the night stand, on the side of the bed Chris had been sleeping on. He looks between the phone, which surely had to have been completely dead after a day and a half with no charge, and Joey's sleeping face. 

He could leave. 

But it _is_ still raining, and a nap does sound nice. 

So he stays.


End file.
